The Nomad
by clandestine.masquerade
Summary: He always thought he would be the one to leave. Instead, it was Olivia.
1. The Nomad

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the general plot. :( Drat.

**The Nomad**

_He always thought he would be the one to leave. Instead, it was Olivia._

___________________

To say the least, the date hadn't gone well. They never did, ever since the first, but lately it had become more oppressive. I had come to the conclusion that it just wasn't going to work, no matter how much I wanted it to or how much I tried, but I could still see in her eyes the loyality, hope, and the fight. I wondered how much it hurt her that she could read me like an open book. She'd probably only see the stress, the self-loathing, and the complete and utter doubt I felt every time we escaped for drinks.

I didn't understand it in the least - we'd set out for a bar and she'd be laughing at every one of my pathetic jokes, her hands all over me, and her mouth always within reach of my own. Those were the times that kept me hoping just enough to stay. Then we'd sit down in the bar stools, order drinks, and she'd look at me like I was something else. All she'd ever do was stare and drink well past her limit, no matter what I said to make her stop. I wanted it to be different, and she did too, but she couldn't help it, just like I couldn't help but steal a kiss ever so often behind Broyles' back. He never caught us, but she made a big deal about it anyway, always pulling me into her office when we returned to the lab. Of course, she knew that we could never get any work done it there anymore. It was all just proof of how screwed up we were.

She was beautiful, ever when drunk and crying, stumbling alongside me as I guided her home. I hated these times, when she wasn't herself (the way I always loved her), when she called my name and it sometimes even slurred into 'John'. It felt like she was shredding my heart in a blender every time she did that. But still, I tried to she only the positive points, like her beauty and the way we were exactly how we should be on our walks out to the bars.

On this particular night, she was sobbing more than usual, her hand loosely tangled around my collar as I wrapped my arm around her. She never really talked before when she was drunk, perhaps every once in a while when something occurred to her about the smog or the color my face turns in the cold, but never like she did that night. She talked about leaving, never coming back, hiding from the FBI and Fringe Division, and about buying a dog and living in New Zealand. I didn't take her seriously at all, until she said the one thing she never said anymore. She told me to leave, and not to follow her because she would only hurt me. I was scared all of a sudden - the relationship wasn't perfect by any stretch of the mind, but she was. I was the one screwing up. She wanted me to leave.

I dropped her off as usual, giving her a kiss that was anything but. I didn't restrain anything like I knew I should have. It was the kind of kiss that you slam into a table, though it doesn't hurt at all, so violently that the lamp shakes off of it. I picked her up, plopping her down on top of it, before slowing myself just enough that I could enjoy her taste and her sounds to the fullest. She was still crying, her fingers raking at the back of my neck, forcing me closer. I didn't even think of pulling my shirt over my head, until she had the chance to look around. Of course, she made me stop as soon as she got the breath to say anything.

I looked up hazily, following the line of her eyes in the direction of her kitchen, illuminated and the coffee pot steaming. I focused on the woman standing backlit by the light, looking stunned and possibly hurt. "Rach," Olivia slurred, "Shit, I thought you were coming -"

"I wanted to surprise you."

The air was heavy, awkward in a totally new sense and filled with words we all wanted to say. I reached for my sweater, which was pooled at my feet, as Olivia slid down from the table, swaying unsteadily. I caught her, and I could hear Rachel suck in a breath. I swallowed, turning to her. "I wish I'd known - I would have never... not with..."

Rachel, who had always had the unique ability, just like her sister, to know exactly what I meant by open-ended sentences, shook her head. "She's somehow still asleep, though I don't know how."

I nodded as Olivia stumbled to pick up the lamp with fumbling fingers.

"I haven't seen you in a while, Peter. Though I suppose I know what you've been doing." The cold double meaning hung between us, stifling to the point even Olivia noticed it. She slid around me, walking toward her sister. I took that as my cue to leave.

I walked out into the cool night air, expecting to have to deal with all of the difficulties in the morning. Though that never happened. When I woke up, shaved (though just enough that I still looked like my usual scuffy self), and took Walter to the lab as he ranted about Tang and how much he missed the putrid stuff. We walked it, and expected Olivia's light to be on like it was every morning. It wasn't. Astrid was the only one there, and she looked grim.

"She told me to tell you goodbye, Peter. That's all she said."

* * *

Author's Note: I'm a huge Olivia/Peter lover, but I noticed there never seems to be a possibilty of Olivia leaving Peter (I guess it's pretty much given, since he's the nomad and she's the FBI agent). Well, I just randomly thought of this, and since Fan Fiction seems to be one of the few things you can do anything with, I decided to take a stab at it. :D I hope you enjoyed it! Favorite and review? ;)


	2. The Departure

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Fringe but unfortunately... I don't. D: Phooey.

The Departure

_He was never given the time to realize she really was gone before he left to find her._

I was always the one to run away from my problems. I don't know why, but when things get bad the only thing I can think of to do is run away. She was never like that, and it shocked me that in the end she had run... not me.

Olivia was the sort of person to sort through her problems methodically and stubbornly - she was also the sort of person who needed stability and a place that she knew she belonged. It made no sense that she had left. But she had. I hadn't. My mind whirled around the foreign concept of Olivia being gone, thoroughly gone, but every time I tried to accept it, I ran into a mental wall. It was practically impossible.

Everyone else thought so too. Walter, for one, was qute upset with the thought that he had lost the woman who had come to be as much as a mother as a daughter to him. He was also convinced it was my fault that she had left, and just knew I had said something ridiculous to her that had made her snap.

On the other hand, Astrid was anxious about the entire thing, unusually quiet, and sometimes you could find her sitting in her chair and kneeding her fist into her cheek in thought. She was just as confused and me, but somehow it also seemed like she had given up. As for the rest, the exact opposite was true.

Broyles had a small troop of FBI agents dedicated to tracking her down. In the two weeks she had been gone, a series of major biological attacks involving a gas that could rewire a brain enough to control it had popped up, spreading rapidly across upstate New York. While the Fringe department had been flowing all its resources into solving the case, Olivia was the glue to the Division. Without her, the case seemed to hit dead end after dead end, haltingly continuing at a snail's pace. Without her emotional determination and drive, which could have likely solved the case in less than four days, Broyles seemed to almost be worried that they wouldn't be able to stop the menace behind the string of attacks.

Of course, there was also the issue of her being an FBI agent in the first place. Being an agent had the weight of an anchor. There was no flexibilty to just quit and run, or in Olivia's case, run. It was a job where there could be no open ends. She would have to formally send in a report and letter of resignition, had a psych exam, and be debriefed on her time in the Bureau before being approved to leave. Running like she did wasn't an option, and so they had to look for her to bring her back. In the two weeks they had looked for her, they hadn't found a thing. Then again, they hadn't let me try yet.

I her well enough that I knew how she would hide. First of all, she learned from the many she had tracked down herself how to hide away from the government. She would change her name - possibly in the way I myself had taught her - get a new bank account, cell phone, and even email address. She wouldn't talk to any of the old people (as much as it pained me, I knew she wouldn't call me) and most importantly, she would stay low. And being the woman she was, there was a good possibility she had left the country. All in all, it was not looking good for the FBI agents who probably were still shifting through her credit card transactions and phone bills. Soon I knew I would have to try.

They never asked me, but it didn't take me long to break. I needed to know where she was, and how quickly I could get to her if I needed her. I cracked Astrid's password to the database and it took me two hours to find her.

Her new name was Verbena Bronson, not exactly a common name, but it meant nearly the same thing as Olivia Dunham. She was living in Johannesburg, South Africa, and it would take me seventeen hours to fly to her from Logan Airport. That was exactly 7960 miles - I counted. If I started packing and booked the flight right then, it would take me less than a day to see her again.

I made my decision.

* * *

Author's Note: I decided to continue this story, but I have to warn you: I will probably only be able to update once a week, and possibly less in the next couple of months. I have a couple AP classes that I need to focus on, so it may be hard to even keep up with one a week. Sorry... I thought I would warn you.

Also, I really wanted to thank everyone who read and commented on the first chapter! I'm so happy you guys enjoyed it. One of the main reasons I didn't just click the button that said 'Complete' was the response. :) Thank you!


	3. The Flight

Disclaimer: If I owned Fringe, Olivia would be from the other side to. Wouldn't that be cool? :)

**The Flight**

_Olivia had changed so much but all he could see was the woman he had flown to South Africa for._

Twelve hours into the flight, I had seen the in-flight movie three times and fingered through the catalouge crumpled in the pocket of the seat in front of me twice. I had also slept for five hours. I hadn't brought a carry on, and there was a pack of high schoolers in the same compartment, evidently going on a senior trip to South Africa. I was at the tail end of my patience, and it took everything to merely grit my teeth when a particularly quiet girl started talking to me.

"Soooo... why are you going to South Africa?" the girl asked, twirling a loose strand of hair around her finger.

I swallowed my pride and answered. "I'm looking for someone."

She popped her gum, her eyes sparkling. "Is it a girl? Cause if it is, it totally reminds me of like this one book I read like a year ago. I think it was called... emm..."

"Twilight?"

"OMIGOSH YES! But I was totally thinking the Great Gatsby. I read it in Junior year for an English class, and Charlotte and I totally agree that Gatsby is like adorable." After a dreamy sigh, she continued. "Of course, he was shot by his best friends' cousin's husband's dead mistress' husband, but... yeah. He's like, numero uno if you want my opinion. Ahead of Edward for sure. Especially since he doesn't sparkle. That's like weird... I don't want my boyfriend to be sparkly."

I suddenly had a wave of tolerance for the girl. At least she wasn't the sort of teenage girl who worshipped the ground a character walked on.

"So, what's her name?"

"Olivia."

"Is she your girlfriend...?"

I frowned, thinking that over for a while. "No, but she was before she left."

"Why'd she leave?"

"I don't know."

The girl nodded, pursing her lips. "Well in my opinion, you'd be the perfect boyfriend. I mean, you are flying to South Africa for her! Duh! You are so totally whipped," she sighed, patting my shoulder almost sympathetically. "I'm Madison, by the way. I just turned eighteen... you know, in case things don't work out," she whispered, giving me a wink. I blinked back at her in disbelief, raising my brows.

"I think I'm a bit old for you, Madison."

She shrugged and turned back to her friends, who were flipping through a fashion magazine, giving me a brief smile. "It was worth a try."

I sat back in my seat with a deep sigh, looking out the window at the dull grey clouds above the Atlantic Ocean. I fell asleep thinking of Olivia.

I woke up several hours later to the rocking of turbulence. It jolted my seat pretty well, and my head slammed into the carry-on compartments above my head, giving me a massive headache as I rubbed it. The plan continued to jitter across the sky, and I looked out the window to see city lights through the thickening clouds. We were decending finally. The thrill of knowing I would see her soon made me grin. My mind flew through a collage memories of her. I purposefully avoided the thoughts of the cases with planes, though.

The lights eased their way on in the compartment and I saw all the high schoolers looking at each other, frightened at the sudden jolts. The guys were trying to keep their cool, but they looked like they were about to piss their pants. I laughed, causing the girl I had talked to before to whip around from her friends in disbelief. That only made me laugh more. Ding! The intercom announced itselfs and the pilot's voice filled the cabin. "Good morning everyone," a woman's voice intoned. I could hear a smile on her voice, "We're very sorry for the turbulence. There was a storm we just avoided in flight that apparently is hovering around Johannesburg. We will be landing in about thirty minutes. Some other notes: it is six hours earlier in Johannesburg than Boston, so set back your watches. The current time is 2:34 am. Enjoy your trip to South Africa, and please enjoy Massive Dynamic Airways for your trip home."

I scoffed, thinking of Nina Sharp and her favor for me. As soon as I found Olivia's location, I called her, knowing she would have the connections I needed. Surely enough, she was eager to get Olivia back as soon as possible, and immediately called in the Airways to schedule a plane to South Africa for the next morning. The price was another favor for Massive Dynamic, but to me it was well worth it.

The plane rocked again, enough that some of the carry-on luggage fell from the overhead cabinets. There were screams from the high schoolers. My head throbbed. I leaned back into my seat, closing my eyes until I felt the landing gear skid across the runway.

It didn't take long in the relatively small airport to make my way to the baggage claim and head out the door. I hailed a cab, and told the man to drive me to the nearest hotel. It may have been merely 3:30 in the morning, but I was determined to find Olivia before she had the chance to leave me behind again.

* * *

Author's Note: I was so excited by the response again! I had to post a chapter sooner than promised just because of that. :) So! Who else is excited for the return of Fringe on April 1st? I am so happy about it - even with the relatively short break, I've been so anxious to see it again. Okay, so I just figured out that I actually wont be able to see the return episode on time! Ugh! I'm so angry. I'm going on a spring break trip with some classmates instead, which I suppose it better... but the people I'm rooming with don't watch it! I'll just have to wait, but I'm sure even that will kill me. :( haha.

Three cheers for Fringe & TiVo!


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